


Addiction.

by tender_is_the_ghost



Category: Cigarette Burns - Fandom, Kirby Sweetman - Fandom, Norman Reedus - Fandom
Genre: After Hours, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Chair Bondage, Chair Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, John Carpenter's Cigarette Burns, Knifeplay, Library Sex, Light Bondage, Masturbation, One Night Stands, Sex, Sex for Favors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1387750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tender_is_the_ghost/pseuds/tender_is_the_ghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirby has a desperate need to get his hands on a rare manuscript and only Coral has the solution to his problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Addiction.

___edit most graciously on loan from my beautiful muse[tmd-dump-station](http://tmblr.co/mWbtVYPDiUpg03wvLTVVeAQ)_ _ _

_([R&faq](http://tmd-dump-station.tumblr.com/editrules))_

**_DO NOT REPOST_ **

 

He’s here again, Coral thinks, her eyes instinctively drawn to the man as he opens the door to the library, disturbing the cool, calm interior with a rush of heat and noise from the street outside. She watches him indirectly, head bowed in pretense over her work, as he once more approaches the main desk and asks to speak to the head librarian. She takes in his slightly disheveled appearance, a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar under a black jacket with mismatched black pants and scuffed black shoes. She wonders if he’s been sleeping in his clothes as he appears even more rumpled than when she last saw him, two days before. His hair is sticking out at the crown and he has a defeated air about him, the manner of someone who is at the end of their rope and wondering how much longer it will be before they give in and hang themselves with it.

All except for his eyes.

His eyes have something burning behind them that’s beyond any kind of passion she’s ever seen. She’s too far away right now but when he had left the building the other day, rage and frustration warring across his features, she’d inadvertently gotten in his way and for a split second he’d turned his gaze on her. The iridescent blue of his eyes had held her in their spotlight before sliding away from her when he realized she wasn’t somebody who could give him what he wanted.

And what he wanted was access to the library’s private collection, tucked safely away under lock and key at the back of the building. For a small town in the middle of nowhere, Coral was surprised to find when she first started this job just how many rare books and other artifacts were squirrelled away back there. She was given a cursory tour as part of her orientation but any and all enquiries for access to the climate controlled room were handled by the head librarian only.

A steady stream of academics and collectors visited the library and each one had to wade through an obnoxious amount of red tape just to gain admittance to the inner sanctum. That was where Coral’s mysterious stranger was falling short. This was his third attempt to get in and, judging by the scowl on his face plus the angry way he was gesticulating with his hands, he still wasn’t meeting the criteria required to let him pass.

With a slam of his hands on the marble top counter, he spins and walks away, stuffing various papers back into his pockets and not paying attention to where he’s going so that he almost barrels into Coral when, this time, she deliberately steps in his path.

“Excuse me,” he mutters, moving to step around her but she side-steps to keep in front of him, one eye on the main desk to make sure she isn’t being watched.

“I can help you,” she tells him, pitching her voice low so that he naturally leans towards her. She catches a faint whiff of his scent, a musky mixture of stale cologne, sweat and cigarette smoke, and her mouth tightens a little. “I leave in fifteen minutes. Meet me out back.”

She walks away without giving him a chance to reply, confident that he’ll be there and, sure enough, when she exits the rear of the building at the end of her shift he’s waiting for her, leaning against the low brick wall that surrounds the lot, smoking a cigarette and sipping from a take-out coffee cup. He drops the cigarette butt as she approaches, stubbing it out with his shoe and slowly exhaling the last lungful of smoke.

“You said you could help me,” he says, not even bothering with small talk which suits Coral fine, she’s always appreciated a man who can get straight to the point. “How?”

“I can give you access to what you need, no questions asked, after hours for as long as you want.”

He looks at her warily, mistrust clear on his features.

“And your price?” he asks, after a moment’s contemplation.

“You,” she replies simply, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Pardon me?”

“In return for me giving you unlimited access to whatever it is that you so desperately need to see in there, I want you to fuck me while we’re there and, if you need to return, I want you to fuck me again,” she tells him, matter-of-factly.

He gives a short bark of a laugh, shaking his head at her in disbelief but she stands steady, keeping her face neutral.

“You’re serious?” he asks, incredulously and she nods. “But you don’t even know me. How do you know I’m not some maniac serial killer?”

Coral shrugs.

“You’re crazy,” he scoffs, pacing back and forth in front of her.

“That’s as may be but this is a one-time offer Mr. Sweetman.”

He flinches a little at the use of his name.

“I’m not in the habit of pimping myself out for a look at a manuscript.”

“Am I so repulsive that it would be impossible for you?” she asks, watching as his eyes skim over her form, lingering on the curves of her breasts pushing against her tightly buttoned blouse.

“On the contrary, you’re a very beautiful woman, I’m just not sure why you’d want to do this.”

“Let’s just say I have my reasons and leave it at that. The choice is yours, you just have to ask yourself how badly you want into that room, if what’s inside is worth selling a little piece of yourself for. If you think it is, then be here tomorrow night at 9, I’ll leave this door open for you. But be warned, if you’re not here by the time I leave at 9.30, my offer is rescinded and will not be made again.”

With that, she turns and walks to her car, leaving him standing in the lot behind her as she drives away.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The only light in the darkened interior of the library comes from the single lamp shining brightly on the main desk. Coral loves being here by herself, having let the last patron and her colleagues out an hour previously. Now she’s the only person in the place, her work almost completed as she returns the final books to their home on the shelves. She revels in the soft silence of the building, her footfalls muffled by the thick carpeting as she makes her way slowly back to the oasis of light at the desk. The building seems to sigh around her as it settles for the night and her eyes flick to the ornate clock on the nearby wall. It’s almost 9 and she slips her hand into the pocket of her short jacket, fingers wrapping around the key to the rare books room she liberated from the head librarian’s desk as soon as he left for the day. She leans against the desk, silhouetted by the light behind her, ready to greet Mr. Sweetman should he take her up on her offer.

Her body is already tingling in anticipation, she can feel her arousal increasing at the thought of what’s to come and she revels in the sensation. So much so that, when he appears suddenly from between the darkened stacks, she lets go an almost imperceptible moan under her breath. He stops a few paces away from her and once again she can smell his musk, a tantalizingly heady mixture that makes her mouth water.

“Did you close the door when you came in?” she asks quietly and he nods. “Good. Now follow me.”

She leads him away from the brightly lit desk, her eyes adjusting to the change in light as she crosses the main floor and turns into a short corridor at the back of the building. She’s hyper-aware of his presence behind her as she reaches the door marked ‘Private’ at the end of the corridor and takes the key from her pocket to unlock it.

“After you,” she says, standing aside to let him enter the room ahead of her. 

Confident that he would accept her proposal, Coral had visited the room shortly before his arrival, turning on a few of the lamps scattered around the room, their muted glow giving the windowless space a warm feeling.

“So, how is this going to work?” he asks her and she’s pleased to hear there’s no trace of nervousness in his voice. She had a feeling that this one was going to be all business and she’s not disappointed. “I get my time with the manuscript and then we…”

“Fuck, Kirby? May I call you Kirby?” He gives a short nod and she continues. “No, Kirby, I prefer my payment up front, if you please. I promise you’ll have plenty of time to peruse your manuscript once our transaction is complete.”

“Can I see it first?” he asks. “As a gesture of good faith on your part.”

“Of course. I pulled your request form and I think you’ll find that this is what you’re looking for.” She indicates a book lying closed on the table, a pair of white cloth gloves by its side.

Kirby moves to take a closer look and she sees the change on his face, an expression of deep relief followed by a look of intense longing as he reads the title etched on the leather cover.

“May I ask what’s so special about this particular manuscript?” Coral asks, her curiosity at his obvious eagerness to get his hands on the seemingly innocuous item overriding her other needs for a moment.

“It’s not the book itself,” he replies, tearing his gaze from it to look at her, “but what it contains.”

“And that is?”

“A clue,” he answers cryptically. “A clue to the whereabouts of something far more valuable than this dusty old relic.”

Coral sees the same passion sparking in his eyes again, something deep and indescribable that burns to her core and she feels her pussy clench in response, his desire fueling hers.

“Okay, Kirby, the preview is over. Do this one thing for me and the book is yours for as long as you need.”

He takes one last, long glance at the leather-bound pages resting on the table in front of him, his fingers actually twitching a little at his sides and then drags his eyes away to meet Coral’s. He nods to her and she pulls out a chair at the end of the table, resting her hands on the back of it as she regards him for a moment.

“Strip,” she simply commands and he pauses for only a few seconds before slipping out of his jacket and undressing to stand naked before her. She appraises his body, her eyes slipping over his skin, taking in the defined curves of his muscles and the narrowness of his waist that his ill-fitting suit was hiding. He makes no move to cover himself, standing naked and unabashed as her eyes linger on his cock, already semi-hard although she’s not sure if that’s from the anticipation of sex or from his desire at being granted access to the thing he wants most. Coral indicates the seat in front of her and he moves to sit in it, hands resting loosely on his thighs and she comes around to stand in front of him.

She eases out of her jacket, hanging it carefully on the back of another chair and slowly unwraps the pair or slim, silk scarves she has looped around her throat. She holds them out to him, almost like an offering, the ends wrapped tightly around her fists as she pulls the length taught and he raises an eyebrow before dipping his head in a gesture of agreement. Coral walks behind him once more and slides her cool hands down the warm flesh of his upper arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake as she pulls his wrists behind the chair and fastens them tightly with the first scarf. Without warning him, she quickly flips the second scarf over his head and into his mouth, forcing it open as she ties the gag at the back of his head. He struggles briefly but she makes soothing noises while she secures the ends and he stills beneath her touch. Over his shoulder, she’s satisfied to see his cock is now standing fully at attention revealing his protests to be just for show.

In front of him once more, Coral reaches behind her, fingers clasping at the zipper of her simple shift dress, pulling it down and then shimmying out of the sensible cotton garment. There’s nothing she loves more than playing the stereotypical saucy librarian, all business on the outside and yet nothing but danger underneath and she smiles inwardly as Kirby’s eyes slip down her torso, taking in the fullness of her breasts stretching the ebony mesh fabric of her peephole bra, her nipples poking rigidly through their openings. She watches as his gaze works its way down, past the generous curve of her hips, to the matching crotchless panties where she knows he must be able to see her wetness slicking her smooth, hairless skin. His eyes travel her legs, clad in jet-black, lace top stockings, down to the patent leather stilettos on her feet and then raise back up to her face.

His mouth works at the gag keeping him silent but she can read the lust in his eyes and the knowledge brings forth a fresh surge of wetness between her aching lips. She can feel her clit swelling under his gaze, her arousement as evident as his as she eases herself up onto the edge of the table in front of him, parting her legs to rest her feet either side of his thighs on the edges of his seat. To his credit, he keeps his eyes on hers and she gives him a small smile as she reaches one hand behind her and picks up an object just out of his sight. She reveals it to him slowly, watching his eyes widen as he catches sight of the antique dagger she now slipping between her fingers. When she stole the head librarian’s key from his desk earlier, she also liberated this, one of his prized possessions. And that fool was using it as a letter opener, she thinks as she runs the wickedly sharp blade between her fingers, wrapping her palm suggestively around the cold metal of the rounded hilt.

“I get the impression, Mr. Sweetman, that you’re the kind of man who likes to watch, who enjoys a good performance. I’m not wrong am I?”

Kirby shakes his head and Coral favors him with another smile.

“Good,” she replies and, taking the dagger more firmly in her grip, she traces it slowly across her skin, working down from the base of her throat, between her breasts, over her stomach and then out along the length of one thigh and back up the inside of her other. Kirby’s eyes track the softly glinting blade the whole time until she pauses with it hovering point first over her sex and only then do his eyes flick up to hers, an expression of concern evident in his gaze. With a light laugh, Coral flicks her wrist, flipping the dagger in her grip until she has a careful hold on the blade end instead and, with no hesitation, she plunges the shaft into her dripping pussy, hissing loudly as the cold metal fills her with its chill. A shiver courses through her body and she plants her feet more firmly as she starts sliding the slippery handle in and out, allowing herself a quiet moan each time she pushes it home.

A light sheen of perspiration has broken out on Kirby’s forehead and she can see the muscles in his arms bunching and releasing as he watches her masturbate in front of him. With a final moan, she slips the dagger’s handle from between her lips, noticing in a distracted way that the blade has left a shallow cut across one side of her palm. Impatiently she licks at the small drops of blood forming on her skin and then dismisses the wound as unimportant, instead sliding down from the table, her gaze drawn to Kirby’s tumid cock, the head glistening with pre-cum and she runs her tongue across her lips. With the dagger still held loosely in one hand, she drops to her knees, forcing his thighs apart and looking up at him. Using a light touch, Coral starts dragging the tip of the dagger up his inner thigh, seeing all his muscles tense as she reaches his groin and slides the flat side of the cold blade against his rigid cock which twitches hard in response.

She takes him in her hand, impressed with the heaviness of him against her palm, and holds him steady as she dips her head to brush her lips against his tip, her tongue darting out to flick over his slit, capturing the pearly drops of pre-cum that have formed there and suck them into her mouth. The salty-sweet taste of him on her tongue unleashes a deep groan from her throat and he answers with a muffled one of his own as she slips her lips just over him enough to take his head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him and then releasing him, her dark lipstick smudged against his flesh. Coral climbs back to her feet, nudging his thighs back together, and lifts one leg over to straddle his lap, lowering herself down until she’s sitting on him, his cock pressed tightly between them.

Leaning back slightly, she meets his gaze, listening to his ragged breathing through the gag, one hand pulling idly at her exposed nipple while the other rests lightly on his shoulder, still clutching the dagger between her fingers. She looks down between them to where his cock is leaving a sticky trail against her skin and something catches her eye on his straining arm. Deliberately slowly, she drags the tip of the dagger down from his shoulder, tracing the definition of his muscles until she reaches the crook of his arm where she can clearly see faded track marks marring his skin. He flinches under her as blade’s tip runs over them, turning his head away from her but she grabs his chin forcing him to look at her.

“It would seem I am not the only one with an addiction, Kirby, even if yours is an old one. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Our addictions shape us, either willingly or not, into the people we are. You should learn to embrace that. Would you be the person you are now if that had never happened?”

He glares at her over the gag, breath huffing from his nostrils and Coral can see some deep hurt roiling in his eyes, something that scarred him to his very core. It just makes her desire him even more, this broken man, this soul lit on fire by a mysterious passion. Shifting on his lap, she reaches between them, gripping his cock at its base and raising herself up to slide him into her. His head flies back as she envelops him in her tight wetness, lowering herself until he’s in her completely, his girth stretching her deliciously. She begins rolling her hips into his, fisting one hand in his hair and forcing him to look at her as she slams against him over and over. He’s grunting hard against the gag, sweat pouring from his skin now with the pressure of being restrained and Coral knows that he’s not going to last long at this pace as she clenches her pussy around him, milking his cock as hard as she can.

Her nerve-endings are alight, blood racing around her body as she devours the feeling of having him inside her. With her fingers still deep in his hair she pulls his head roughly to one side, bringing up the blade and digging it into the flesh just above the line of his clavicle, hard enough to break the skin and for blood to well up and trickle down his chest. Quickly she presses her mouth over the gash, dropping the dagger to the floor with a hollow thud as she sucks and licks at him, tasting the very essence of him sliding over her tongue. He bucks underneath her and she whips her head back, worried for a second that she’s misjudged him but then she catches the look in his eyes and realizes he’s encouraging her, no longer an inactive participant in this scenario. He thrusts up into her again and she whines loudly, dipping her head back down to lick the fresh rivulet of blood from his skin and suck hard at him once more.

This time as she swallows the coppery fluid, the taste is too much for her and she feels her body plunge into an orgasm, her pussy pulsing hard around him, her darkly-painted nails leaving deep gouges in his shoulders as she screams for all she’s worth, dimly aware of him shooting his load into her, pumping and pumping until his body grows limp beneath hers. Coral clings to him until the last pulsing waves within her have subsided and then loosens her grip, reaching up to deftly untie the gag from his mouth. His breath comes in a great whooping gasp as he sucks in fresh air and she slides off of him, his cock slipping limply from her with a gush of fluids. She moves around him to release his arms and he rubs them furiously to regain his circulation. They contemplate each other for a long moment then at some unspoken agreement they both silently dress and Coral indicates that he should take the seat in front of the manuscript.

Kirby follows her direction, pulling on the pristine gloves by the book’s side before opening the cover. Within seconds he’s lost, eyes scanning the text in front of him and Coral smiles to herself, tasking herself with cleaning up after their encounter. The room is thick with the musky aroma of their bodies and she inhales deeply, feeling her pussy give a residual twitch at this new stimulation. By the time she’s put the room to rights, Kirby is so deeply consumed by his work that she knows he’s not even aware that she’s there so she takes a seat on the other side of the table and watches him, memorizing every line of his face, every expression of confusion or elation that passes over his features.

Finally, he closes the book with a sigh, looking up at her with a tired yet satisfied grin on his face.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” she asks him softly.

He regards her intently for what seems, to her, the longest time.

“I’m not sure,” he replies at last. “I think I may need another session tomorrow night if that would be possible?”

“Oh, I think we might be able to come to some agreement,” Coral tells him as she reaches over and flicks off the lamp between them.

 


End file.
